


Wake up, snakey-head!

by gaymedievaldruid



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Birthday, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymedievaldruid/pseuds/gaymedievaldruid
Summary: Janus hated February 3rd. It was awkward, and stifling, and entirely overdone.Too bad Remus loved the whole affair
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Wake up, snakey-head!

It was midnight on February the 3rd, and Janus hated everything.

He was woken, rather predictably at this point (and yet he never seemed to learn his lesson) by Remus taking a megaphone, attaching a foghorn to the microphone end, and making the whole thing voice activated. And since this was Remus, voice-activated actually meant scream-activated, because that was precisely what happened, causing Janus to flinch awake with a startled cry, before he remembered the date. He _swore_ to himself months ago he wouldn't go to sleep, but obviously that had worked so well.

He forgot it was his birthday today. How on earth had he forgotten that it was his _birthday_ today, and that Remus would obviously want to throw some overdone and startlingly disgusting celebration? Starting, apparently, as soon as the day ticked over.

"Wake up, snakey-head!" The Duke shrieked, very literally jumping up and down in excitement. "It's your BIRTHDAY! Your very own special day!"

"Yes," Janus drawled, attempting to not let any rough irritability into his tone. "As our dear Patton would say, 'a birthday is a birthday'."

"Redundant," Remus echoed in Logan's voice, "but Roman's not wrong."

Janus leveled him a flat glare, and Remus burst out giggling. "Get it? Because- because Roman's always wrong-"

"Yes, we know. Now," he turned over, tugging his blanket over his head. Even if he knew the outcome, it wouldn't hurt to try. "As a very special friend of mine, I'm sure you know what I want most of all for my birthday…"

"Virgil saying he's sorry!"

"That would be nice, but no. I was thinking of sleep."

"Oh." Remus let out a pathetic whine that abruptly transitioned into the rasp of a balloon deflating as he allowed himself to sink to the floor like a pile of discarded clothes. "But I had a brilliant plan to kidnap him and all."

"Maybe next year," Janus yawned, daring to hope that Remus would actually leave him alone. But no, it wasn't meant to be. He heard the distinctive sound of cracking bones as they snapped back into place like magnets.

Remus latched onto his arm, dragging him out of bed using his full weight. "Or! Or, or, or! You could come downstairs!"

Janus' back hit the floor with a sharp thud, his eyes flying open as he resisted the urge to groan. "Fine! Whatever, it wasn't like I'd be able to go back to sleep anyway." He didn't bother hiding his yawn to prove a point, and blinked at Remus in a deadpan glare. The Duke simply grinned blindingly, grabbing his shoulders roughly and literally pulling him up, holding him in the air for a moment, before setting him on his feet. Janus flipped him off before nudging his slippers out from under his bed with his toes, and pulling on a dressing gown, adjusting his gloves as he went. It was going to be a long night, after all, and the Subconscious was hardly warm.

He trudged down the stairs, wincing slightly from the odour of partially broken-down food and fresh, slimy meat. What stopped him in his tracks, however, wasn't the _delightful_ buffet provided or the dismembered tentacles serving as streamers, but the sight of Virgil, willingly handling said decorations, albeit to throw them in the trash. He let his gaze wander, landing first on Roman transforming what he could from meat and dead animals stapled to the walls to actual bunting and pastel-coloured piñatas, to Patton, staring straight ahead with a dissociated and traumatised smile ghosted faintly over his lips, to Logan, sniffing disapprovingly at the entire scene.

Janus swung round, staring at the broadly beaming dark side in confusion and something like awe. "How the hell did you organise this?"

"Lots and lots of drugs." Was his only answer. Logan frowned.

"I consented to this much, but if your substance abuse is any influence on Thomas-"

"He means meds for ADHD," Virgil cut in quickly, grimacing at the blood on his clothes- on his onsie? Janus swept his eye across the room again- Virgil was in his glow-in-the-dark skeleton onsie, Roman was in some sort of hideous amalgamation of royal attire and beast-like features- ah. Beast. Janus got it. Patton, doing better now the tentacles were gone, was in his grey cat onesie, and Logan, surprisingly, was wearing the unicorn pyjamas Janus had known he owned but had never seen him in. The only one not in sleepwear was actually Remus himself, but that was probably because he usually just collapsed on the floor when his body couldn't handle the stress it was under. "Hey Roman, could you-"

Roman grimaced and fluttered his fingers in Virgil's direction, banishing the slime and blood from his clothes. "Ah. Thanks."

Logan sat down on the ratty couch next to Patton, and Janus unthinkingly followed suit, allowing room for a whole person between the two of them, which predictably no one filled. He swiped a wine glass from thin air and hummed at the tense atmosphere. "Happy birthday to me. You really weren't kidding about the kidnapping thing, were you?"

The core sides traded glances as Remus flopped down in a gangly mess on the floor. "Actually, I was!"

"Well, by all means." He made eye contact with Roman, then Virgil as they both hesitantly sat down. "Leave me in the dark."

The silence stretched on, and Janus was about to conclude that Remus _did_ trap the Core sides there, and no one wanted to admit that they actually couldn't stand the sight of him (thoughtful, but inevitably pointless) when Patton cleared his throat. The heart shuffled, hand pressing on and off of his wrist, probably an anxious tic, but Janus wasn't in a place to judge. "We do want to be here, actually. Uh. Yeah. We-"

"Patton made a speech, but now he's so anxious he forgot it," Virgil interrupted, and Janus swept his amused gaze from one nervous side to the other. The glare he got in turn was just as fierce as he was expecting, but oddly- different. (He refused to say familiar.) "Listen up, Dee, we still don't like you. They don't know you, and I know you too well. " Virgil swallowed, eyes darting. Janus just smirked. "But- but that's gotta change. We both know we're only looking out for Thomas. Any agenda I've certainly had has always come second to that, and I think you were telling the truth when you said you were the same. Don't get me wrong," he warned when Janus lifted an eyebrow. "This is a ceasefire. I still hate you. But, I- well-"

"We got you this." Patton's voice had returned, a lot softer than the blustering, preachy tone he began with. Passing a green and silver-wrapped box across Logan to Janus, Patton lifted his eyes and smiled in a way that, if Janus didn't know any better, he'd call gentle. "Happy birthday, kiddo."

The box was messily wrapped, and on closer inspection Janus saw it was Harry Potter themed, the Slytherin house emblem neatly printed on diagonal alternating rows of green and silver. Janus began methodically picking apart the cellotape to reveal… a tupperware box of spaghetti. Janus stared at it, uncomprehending, as if prolonged exposure to his disappointment in it for Not Making Sense would pressure it to jump up and blurt out the secret of life itself.

"Virgil said you liked pesto," Patton added, as if that explained anything. Janus did lift the box, though, and sure enough, the pasta was coated in green pesto.

Roman couldn't hold it in anymore, which surprised Janus, because usually Roman was not subtle in his mirth. "Get it? Because- because a common nickname for snakes are noodles- and spaghetti is basically noodles- well, we didn't actually have any noodles, so you got pasta instead, but I thought it was pretty funny."

"Oh," Janus said, still not quite sure what he felt- or rather, not sure why he felt oddly touched. "Har har."

Virgil elbowed Princey, but rolled his eyes with a small smile anyway. "Don't worry guys, he's fine with it."

Logan cleared his throat, gesturing to the paper spread over Janus' lap. "We also produced a card for you." It was a folded sheet of A4, obnoxiously brightly coloured with a hand drawn Pegasus swooping through pastel clouds, fighting what could only be a dragon-witch, and Janus let himself smirk at Roman's steadily reddening face from his peripheral. Flipping the page open, he found a rougher, but more tasteful sketch of a boa standing off against a giant tarantula. Classic Virgil. It must have been a _very_ last minute addition if the way Patton and Logan were looking at it was any indication, but Janus appreciated it nonetheless. On the other side of the folded paper was a short message reeking of false-cheeriness and guilt smudging the edge of the ink. "Dear Janus, Happy birthday!!! Here's to many more, Love, Patton!" The other's names were written below, Logan's in a steady print, Roman's flourishing calligraphy, and an itsy bitsy spider hanging from one of Roman's loops. Virgil's name was written stiffly beneath that, the spider serving as the dot to the second I.

It was oddly actually adorable how hard they were pushing themselves to appear like they wanted to be friends. Janus didn't feel hope wriggle feebly in his chest.

"Well." His tone was smooth and unblemished. "That's very touching of you all."

Patton smiled up at him, half-sheepish, half wary. "You okay with it?"

"Yes, Patton," he sighed grudgingly. "Thank you. It's…" He stared hard at the paper and frowned, brushed his senses past the surface falseness of ink into the heart of it, where an ocean's deep pang of… regret, and guilt, and a vivid _longing_ for something like forgiveness. He checked, to make sure, and was genuinely surprised when he didn't taste the salt of regret staining the paper. Patton must be stronger than he thought. "It's acceptable," he allowed, closing the card and resting it on the lid of the box.

Virgil nodded at Patton, who suddenly relaxed as if boneless, and threw himself over Logan's lap to wrap his arms crushingly around Janus with a squeal. He choked, eyes bugging slightly as his ribs pressed inwards onto his lungs, alarm pricking at his nerves like a brush of scales. It faded, settling down into a comfortable coil, and with a desperate glance to Virgil (when did he begin to trust that damn spider again) wriggled his arm enough to pretend to try and hug Patton back.

"Aaaaaaaaaww!" In the corner of his eye Remus turned to Virgil, and then Roman, and grinned with a mouth full of layered fangs, springing forward and practically swinging the other two into the couch. Which, probably by design, subsequently trapped Logan, who had been entirely focused on tentatively patting Patton on the shoulder while trying not to care, and Janus, who still had the damn box of pasta on his lap, as well as having to deal with Patton still wrapped around him (he'd like to.think Patton would have let go by now if he could) and Virgil somehow sprawled over his shoulders and onto the armrest. Janus wisely closed his eyes and held his breath as Remus dove into the pile, tentacles naturally sprouting from his back and wrapping around the entire couch.

Janus hated his birthday. 


End file.
